


In the Garden

by Etrangere



Series: Heavenly Bodies [1]
Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-05-24
Updated: 2011-05-24
Packaged: 2017-10-19 17:56:59
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 893
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/203664
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Etrangere/pseuds/Etrangere
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>In the summer, before everything went wrong, they would all gather in the garden and Andromeda would tell stories.</p>
            </blockquote>





	In the Garden

**Author's Note:**

> Beta'ed by dizilla.

They live in a vast house by the country, of old greying stone devoured by leaves and thorns. The garden is large, and full of greenery : roses and lilah, ivy, oaks and beeches. Their favourite spot is the weeping willow over the little stream on which you can lie down to read or listen stories for hours.

Father is as often here as he’s not. Coming and going through the chimney at all hours of the day. When here, he radiates strength and sunny laughter. _My darlings, my princesses, my pumpkins_. He takes them in his arms and they fly in circles around him. Not so very often now, however. Lines of worry have joined the smiling crinkles around his eyes. Sometimes he locks himself in his bureau for days and nights on.

Mother is delicate ivory and lacy paper, like the porcelain dancers they are informed they must not play with (but do nonetheless). She smiles beautifully and tiredly, looking at them like she doesn’t see them. Mostly she takes care of the baby, little Narcissa. She dresses her in robes and ribbons as pretty as her own. They look exquisite next to each other, all blonde and blue and black.

Andromeda is a difficult child, she’s been told _(children must be seen, not heard)_. She can’t keep still for one second and is always asking questions. _Why and where and how and who and when, and why, and why, and why?_  
The adults’ mouth becomes a thin, taut line, as if trying to keep tight all the secrets she’s been seeking. They tell her to stop asking stupid question and do this or that.

Andromeda seeks knowledge elsewhere. In books and experimentation. Her dress is always dirtied from too many expeditions in the garden and cellar. She listens and watches and knows all the secrets of the house, the places to hide, the petty whispers of the Tutors behind Father’s back, the sweet romance between house elves, and the dusty paintings hidden away in cabinets.

Bellatrix, however, is a very quiet child, shy as a mouse. She’s not as clever as Andromeda nor as pretty as Narcissa so no one pays attention to her. She doesn’t like all the noise always surrounding Father, or how ever fatigued and faded Mother is. Sometimes she feels like she lives in a house of glass and she’s afraid of breaking everything around her. So she takes cover away under the table, or into a closet, any time someone looks angry or upset. She hides and hides, until Andromeda is called upon to find her. Andromeda sighs, takes her by the hand, and brings her out for while.

Then one day, after Andromeda went to Hogwarts, Bellatrix stops being quiet. One day she starts screaming “NO!” at the top of her lungs and smashing all the brittle things and glassy dolls against the walls.. She drives the House Elves crazy, and Tutors to discipline her harshly. But no matter the frowns and screams, pleadings and scoldings, she stares back sullen and unflinching amid all the broken pieces on the floor. Bellatrix doesn’t fear anything anymore.

Narcissa is dressed in pretty dresses perfectly coordinated that she must not sully. She learns to move softly, to not run and play out with the others (especially not when the boys are there) and all her games are quiet ones. She knows she’s given to Mother to take care of because Mother cannot abide the sight of Bellatrix and because Andromeda tires her too much. Mother styles her hair in complicated curls and ties ribbons around her locks. She tells her how beautiful she is, just like Mother is, blonde and lovely, none of those dark haired mad furies that some Black girls are. She whispers in her ear that if she’s pretty and refined enough, no man will ever take her away from her, and she’ll stay forever with Mother.

So she’s very, very careful to be a good girl and not to upset her. She doesn’t ever want to leave her family, her home.

The boys come in summer, loud and raucous and tumultuous, and change the whole atmosphere of the house. Sirius keeps bickering with Bellatrix, and Regulus stumbles after them eyes wide and hazy. Andromeda’s their favourite of course. Andromeda’s everyone favourite. She knows all the best stories and all the best games, and she can quiet any dispute with but a raise of her eyebrow.

They gather all in the garden during lazy afternoons. Sirius is recklessly riding across the highest branch and Regulus a bit lower, not quite daring to join him. Andromeda has her back against the tree, brushing Bellatrix’s hair who sits between her knees, as it is the only way to have her sit still. Narcissa is beside them, robes gracefully folded to let her feet brush the water of the stream.

Andromeda tells them about their names, about their past. Sometimes, glistening between the words, she tells them of their future. More thrillingly, she tells them about Hogwarts, where Bellatrix will join her the next year. Everything is hot and sunny, and time slows down languorously. Stars and Gods, heroes and monsters, nymphs and crones dance around them.

It is the summer of the year 1968, a glorious one, by all accounts.

It is their last year of peace.


End file.
